


Lance Fuentes and  the Case of That Bitch (Part 1)

by vrepit_nah



Series: Bottom Lance Week 2020 [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Angst, Begging, Bottom Lance (Voltron), Cute Lance (Voltron), First Time Blow Jobs, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Flustered Lance (Voltron), Hurt Lance (Voltron), Insecure Lance (Voltron), Keith (Voltron) is Bad at Feelings, Keith is hung, M/M, Pining Lance (Voltron), Praise Kink, Rimming, Sex, Smut, Soccer Player Keith, Sweet Keith (Voltron), Swimmer Lance (Voltron), Teasing, Top Keith (Voltron), Virgin Lance (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-22
Updated: 2020-07-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:15:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25452256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vrepit_nah/pseuds/vrepit_nah
Summary: Bottom Lance WeekDay 2: Rimming, PraisingThird time. This is the third fucking time Lance has encountered Keith balls-deep in someone, in public. Two of them were part of the swim team.Lance hates that it hurts him. He hates even more that he ever fell in love with Keith in the first place.(I realized that this fic isn’t going in the direction I want AT ALL—I sorta forgot about the purpose of this fic—and I’m so unhappy with it, so I’m thinking of revamping the storyline because there wasn’t supposed to be this much angst and issues, it was supposed to had sexual tension and other stuff that well, isn’t angst, so I’m gonna change it.)I took down the second chapter because I hated it, too. I'm keeping the first one up until I change stuff, sorry, guys.)
Relationships: Keith/Lance (Voltron)
Series: Bottom Lance Week 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1841374
Comments: 62
Kudos: 566





	Lance Fuentes and  the Case of That Bitch (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Nearly 7,000 fucking words. In one day. My fingers have cracked so many times. Am I alive? 
> 
> But fuck, the sex.
> 
> Inspired by a post I can no longer find. Maybe it was a Twitter thread? I don't know but if anyone finds it, lemme know because I want to credit it.

** 22  **

** Rimming, Praising **

There are many things Lance Fuentes is not good at.

He can never use chopsticks right and ends up stabbing what he eats like it’s a fork. He cannot bake bread for his life—the last time he tried, the bread baked rock hard and Hunk nearly had a seizure when he forced himself to eat it. Lance struggles with chemistry because the words are very complicated to him and having dyslexia doesn’t make a Science major easy to achieve, but he does his best.

Swimming is not one of them. Half his life is spent in the water and his father always used to say he was a merman. His mother hated when he would go to the beach with his dad and siblings because without her looking over them, they would end up swimming as far from the shore as possible, but she never stopped them anyways. She would always look proudly when Lance perfected a trick or swam faster than all his siblings. She knew her little baby boy was made to be in water, and he took every advantage of that.

So, Lance enrolled in the Altea College Swimming Team. He was a freshman when he did so, and when he was at tryouts, he not only managed to outswim every candidate, but also came second on the school’s record for the 100m race. The coach, Coran Smythe, was so impressed with his performance that by the second year of college, Lance became Team Captain. Paired with his sunshine attitude and love for the sport, his team couldn’t hate him. Barely anyone could. He became popular instantly.

So, that begs to ask the question.

How the fuck is he still single?

Sure, he made out with a few people in high school. Nothing serious. Nothing that even went more than make-outs. But anything related to his love life both began and died in his freshman year.

And it’s all because of That Bitch Ke—

“Oh, ha—harder, _harder_ —yes, yes _right there, yes!”_

Lance pauses at the doorway of the swimming team’s locker. There’s a disgusting squelching sound, repetitive slapping of skin on skin, and whoever’s bottoming is having the time of their life because they sound an inch away from sobbing into their release.

Lance, however, is wholly unaffected as he slams the door shut loud enough that the clang of metal echoes in the blue-tiled locker room. The moaning goes silent as Lance shouts, “you have ten seconds to get your asses out of here before I report you!”

And okay, maybe on some level, it’s a _little_ harsh, but Lance is 100% done. This isn’t the first time and Lance fucking knows by now that this shit happens enough to give him a headache because he _knows_ _exactly_ who’s behind this.

One of the shower stalls swing open and a sheepish man stumbles out, red-faced and still probably hard given Lance’s cockblocking because his shorts are haphazardly tugged on and tented. He looks thoroughly debauched with mussed hair and bite marks all over his neck and chest. Lance shoots his teammate a scowl. “Scram, McKinney.”

“But—”

“I won’t say it a second time.”

“Better listen to what Fuentes says.” Comes another voice from the stall, deep and gravelly and hitting Lance in all the worst spots. “He’s allergic to fun.”

“Get your ass out here, Kogane,” Lance growls, running a hand through his short, wet hair.

The second time the door swings open, Keith Kogane walks out, dark hair mussed and damp, bare-chested, and smug as his dark indigo eyes take a moment to travel down Lance’s body. It makes him shiver—again in the worst way, though this time, it’s rather conflicting because Lance can feel his face heat up—but Lance holds his gaze steadily.

McKinney seems to realize the tension between the two men as they stare each other down. McKinney might also feel a little aroused because first there’s smoking hot and hung Keith Kogane whose dick was in him twenty seconds ago and it felt like heaven in a thrust. And then there’s gorgeous, sweet, and commanding Lance Fuentes whose one order to get out did nothing but turn him on even more.

_Ah, the struggle._

He books it out of there with one more look of Lance’s burning blue eyes.

The team is going to _flip_ at his story.

When the door slams shut behind McKinney, Keith finally breaks the silence. “So, come here often?” He adjusts his pants and it takes a split second to realize he’s super hard still.

Lance’s eyes narrow. He is so massively irritated that the sight of Keith’s pecs does nothing to him anymore. “Stop fucking around in public before you get caught.”

Keith doesn’t seem to mind the icy tone, and instead, slips on his shirt and grins infuriatingly. What Lance would take to let his anger get to him and smack Keith around like the bitch he is. “If I fucked you in public, you wouldn’t mind, _trust me_ ,” Keith drawls.

_“I’ll take care of you, just trust me.” Keith had whispered to him. Lance hadn’t hesitated._

_“I trust you.”_

“I’m not going to make that mistake again,” Lance snaps, something ugly ripping through him. Rage and shame that he ever thought he and Keith would—it doesn’t matter. “Now get the fuck out.”

It’s a blink-and-you-miss-it moment when Keith’s expression deflates. But his horribly maddening smirk is back as he steps forward, close enough that Keith must look up a bit to look him in the eye. Lance can smell the stench of sweat and musk on him and it shouldn’t be attractive. _It isn’t._ _Not anymore_ , he forces himself to think.

“Go find someone who will get that stick out of your ass,” Keith says. He doesn’t wait around for a response as he stalks out of the room, yanking the door shut that it could’ve broken off its hinges with hos loud it slammed shut. Lance’s entire body shakes with the force and he snarls at the door.

“Bitch,” he mumbles under his breath as he goes to another stall to shower off the day’s practice. His muscles are burning and stiff after the extra laps he took when practice was over. He steps under the shower head and sighs as hot water runs down his body. As he begins cleaning his hair, his mind trails back to _That Bitch._

Third time. Something hot and acidic bubbles in him because this is the _third fucking time_ Lance has encountered Keith balls-deep in someone. Two of them were part of the swim team. And by god, Lance hated going out with his team because the last time they went to a Swim Team gathering, they took an entire, large table in the same restaurant Keith, Shiro, and Matt were eating in.

The team was making a ruckus because hey, they’re idiots who like to have fun. And more than one time, Keith had looked over, staring dead straight at Lance that his heart shuddered in his chest painfully. And then he had winked at Rodriguez. Rodriguez had blushed at the attention of the soccer player—yeah, Keith played soccer, that bitch—and the next thing Lance knew, Keith had come strutting over to their table, muscular legs clad in dark, skinny jeans and combat boots. Paired with his usual black leather jacket, he looked like he was out to murder someone.

Everyone had watched as Keith bent over to whisper in Rodriguez’s ear. Lance had fumed, clutching onto his knife so hard that Hunk beside him had nudged him silently. Keith was still whispering something probably filthy, but it was working with the way his teammate was melting and shivering as Keith’s teeth snagged onto his ear. And for that bare second, his eyes flickered up to meet Lance’s gaze, a smirk curling his lips. Then, Keith walked off to the toilet. Rodriguez’s face had been bright red and seconds later, he excused himself and practically ran to the toilet.

It took barely fifteen minutes before they returned. Rodriguez looked like he had a spiritual experience. As he sat down, he winced and the entire team exploded into laughter, all sans Lance, who was glaring at Keith so angrily he hadn’t realized that the entire time, Lance hadn’t taken a single bite of his food.

When they left, Lance and Hunk were giving Rodriguez and two other of their friends a lift home. Rodriguez couldn’t control it anymore and gushed about Keith, from the size of his dick to how ruthless he was that he couldn’t even breathe before he came. It, apparently, was quote: _“The best orgasm of my life.”_

Rodriguez was _so_ fucking lucky it was Hunk’s car because Lance would’ve kicked him out on the road instantly. And when Lance finally got to his dorm, Hunk didn’t get a chance to comfort Lance because the boy slammed his bedroom door shut and locked and threw himself on his bed, curled up, and—

Lance presses his palms to his eyes, trying to shove away the hurt. He didn’t care about Keith anymore. And that was water, not tears.

Lance rubbed his eyes, and once he finished his shower, he changed and left the complex. Thankfully, he had no work shift today at Hunk’s bakery, but he did have that assignment he needed to complete, and he didn’t want to do it at home.

So, he goes to the bakery anyway. It’s on campus and is adjacent to the college’s coffeeshop, so he goes there. The sun is close to setting but the shops are bustling with students lounging with their friends, some taking up the single line seats to read or complete work, and others just there to relax and have a nice drink and snack to unwind from the day’s activities.

When Lance enters the bakery section, he waves at Shay, the girl at the counter, and she happily waves and smiles back. He grabs a muffin and hot chocolate before retreating to a cozy, secluded corner he always picks. It has warm yellow lighting in the brown paneled shop and has a small window that overlooks the campus ground.

Thirty minutes in his assignment and it feels like his eyes are going to drop out of his skull. English Lit was supposed to be easy, but how many times can he write the word ‘ _portray’_ about that stupid poem in his essay? He doesn’t even _like_ English Lit. His essay is an array of red-lined words that are so obviously errors, but Lance can’t afford to look back now.

“Hey, Lance.”

Lance startles out of his zone. His day took a bad turn after That Bitch and now, just when he was getting his essay word count up faster than ever, some dumbass has to go and ruin his streak. He finds a soft smiling Shiro looking down at him, one strong arm propped on the brown table surface.

Well, Lance can’t be mad at something that sweet. Damn Shiro and his innocent smiles.

“Hey, Shiro, what’s up? Soccer practice just finish?”

Shiro sends him a look that seems almost apologetic. “I, uh, think you know we’ve been done for a couple hours now.”

 _He did_. Keith wouldn’t be in the swimming pool complex if he had soccer practice. Plus, he may have memorized the soccer practice schedule when he was once—and no longer—infatuated with That Bitch.

Lance taps his fingers on the laptop before he gestures for the chair across him. “Feel free to sit.”

“No, that’s okay,” Shiro says, “I just came to… say sorry.”

“For what?” Lance frowns.

“For Keith.” At Lance’s wince, Shiro breathes noisily out his nose. “We found out what happened in the locker room. Your friend McKinney is a squealer.”

“He’s going to be a dead man soon.” Lance glares, not at Shiro, but at the memory of Keith smirking at him. “I don’t care if it’s on purpose or not, but just tell Keith to keep it away from public.”

Shiro shifts uncomfortably. “I’ll talk to him. I’m sorry he’d doing that.”

Lance waves his hand absently. “Don’t apologize for him, Shiro. I just don’t understand what he’s—” Lance pauses, feeling that swell of irritation and that… _that sadness_ again. He’s over it. Over _him_. “Just tell him to stay out of my way.”

“That’s also what I wanted to talk about. I was hoping you guys could work things out?” Shiro huffs. “I hate that I have to say it, but it’s hurting both of you and our friends. The last time we all hung out was over a month ago and I—we miss you guys.”

Lance’s eyes stung. He kept his gaze down on the keyboard of his laptop, viciously staring at the tiny speck of dirt stuck on the space bar. “Tell him that.” Lance mutters bitterly. “I spent weeks trying to talk to him. He wouldn’t listen then, and he won’t now. If you want, you can exclude me from the group stuff and call him. I won’t mind.”

Shiro looks physically pained. “Lance, that’s literally never going to happen. We’re not going to exclude you.”

All at once, he feels relief, but the thought that he’s the problem, the reason why the gang is no longer having their fun outings and parties hurts him. He half thought his friends might actually kick him out of the group. A part of him wouldn’t be surprised because what’s he got, right? What’s he doing that’s worth their time anymore?

Lance instantly tampers down the insecurity. Shiro just said they wouldn’t, and he trusts Shiro. So, he helplessly shrugs, sending a smile that’s not remotely real. “It’s in his hands, Shiro. I’ve done my best, and all I’ve got is his ignorance and—”

“I know,” Shiro murmurs. His eyes flicker to the adjacent coffee shop and when Lance follows the gaze, he sees a few young men in a group in the line. One of them is dark-skinned with curly black hair and a wonderfully built body. Ryan Kinkade, the cute goalie of the soccer team.

And beside him, chatting softly as he taps his gloved hands — half-gloved, does he have no style? — is That Bitch.

“It would help if either of you told us what actually happened?” Shiro tries.

A flare of that night where the air smelled of booze and sweat, his body pressed into that hard bed which contrasted the softness of hands on his hips, those lips moving against his, it all shot through him like a bolt of lightning, and Lance hates that even after a month, it squeezes his heart.

Lance doesn’t look back at the coffeeshop. He doesn’t look at Shiro. His head is aching, and he just wants one of Hunk’s comforting mint chocolate chip cookies. “If I knew what happened, we wouldn’t be in this mess. Now,” Lance clears his throat and send Shiro a polite smile. “I have an assignment to get to.”

Shiro sighs. “Alright, Lance, I won’t push. I’m just worried for you guys. See you later,” he pats Lance’s shoulder and retreats to the coffeeshop but as he passes out the door, another body fits in, and Lance straightens up in his chair as he realizes Ryan Kinkade is walking in, walking towards him with a soft smile on his usually passive face.

 _That’s impressive_ , Lance thinks. Ryan didn’t so much as crack a tiny smile when Lotor got pranked with bright orange hair (and that was hilarious).

“Hello, Lance,” Ryan greets in his quiet voice.

Lance flushes when he notices Ryan roaming with an appreciative eye over his face. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing much. I just wanted to say hi. Mind if I sit?” He gestures to the chair and Lance nods eagerly. In his red sports jacket and soft blue jeans, he looks so good Lance nearly drools. And he has these pretty silver rings on his fingers. And he…also looks exceptionally shy as he rubs a thumb across his fingers, biting his lip. “I—uh, I also wanted to say that you—your hair, it looks nice. Wavy. Your wavy hair suits you. Um—”

Lance gets redder with every word. Just as he responds, a rough voice interrupts with near laughter.

“That’s the best you got?” Keith chuckles as he invites himself to lean on the table, a cocky smile on his lips. His eyes rove over Lance and they darken slightly, but then he’s slowly cracking his knuckles. “Come on, Kinkade, you’ve got better stuff than that.”

Ryan shoots him a glare, his ears growing red. “And you can do better?”

Keith rises to the challenge immediately. “You know I can. If you want to compliment him, you can tell Lance how the new piercing on his ear makes him look cuter. Or that he’s a fantastic swimmer because he broke his own record and the school’s record twice.” Keith turns to Lance and bites his lip, eyelashes fluttering, and Lance feels this sudden, overwhelming heat because when Keith’s gaze softens, Lance can see the guy he fell for. “Or you could say—I’ll never need to see the sun again because your eyes light up my world. Lance loves pick-up lines.”

Lance flushes, and try as he might, but no words are coming out of his mouth because the way Keith looked at him with pure adoration and fondness, his hand twitching to touch Lance’s on the table, and the soft tone that’s so rare from Keith hits him hard and fast and Lance can’t stop staring at Keith, and Keith can’t stop looking back and Lance wonders why things ever went wrong with them because _this_ is what he’s always dreaming about.

He’s always been a romantic at heart. The punk, soccer-playing boy with a scowl on his face makes the skies clear up when he smiles. Those galaxy eyes, when looking at Lance, makes Lance feel warm and safe. And he falls hard for Keith the second he sees him looking back. Every time Keith used to help Lance with his assignments when words get mixed up. And when Keith offers to drive him home after a tiring swimming practice to just rest.

And in the past month, he’s seen such a terrible side of Keith that it hurts. But he wonders if it’s real, because it took only a split second for Keith to mean these compliments and affectionate glances.

Ryan clears his throat loudly and both Keith and Lance snap out of their daze. Keith looks visibly shaken as he grunts and runs a hand through his dark hair. He doesn’t look at Lance as he drags Ryan up. “Let’s go, Kinkade. Shiro said only two minutes.”

Ryan looks like he wants to say something but then his eyes dart between them, and he sighs. Smiling, he says, “I’ll catch you next time, Lance. Maybe at the party after the game this weekend?”

Keith is unnaturally still as Lance slowly nods, wondering if this could get any stranger.

It does.

As they walk away, Keith turns around and mutters, “use ‘ _highlight’_ instead of ‘ _portray_ ,’ Lance. And you keep—” Keith cuts himself off with a weird expression and he turns forward and stalks out of there like he has to run before he explodes or something.

When they finally leave, Lance releases the breath he hasn’t realized he’s been holding, pressing his palms to his red cheeks. It baffles him because why is he feeling so hot and sweaty for one of the strangest moments of his life? And to whom is he feeling this?

Who the fuck is he kidding?

It’s always been That Bitch.

And that’s the end of his work.

Because now that Shiro got the ball rolling, his thoughts wouldn’t stop coming over and over in his head. That one night that was the best thing that ever happened to Lance, and the next morning that ruined his friendship with Keith, damaged their group, and caused Lance to live every day with anxiety and heartbreak because it was Keith’s fault. It was all Keith’s fucking fault.

*

It took a year from being freshmen together, in three of the same lectures, and sharing the same friends to make progress.

Keith looked like this unattainable, hot guy who was always at the top of his classes and challenged Lance in every way possible. Keith has this reputation. Not necessarily bad because everyone in Altea University knows that anyone who swings Keith’s way is perceptible to his charming words and looks. And he doubts they could ever say no to Keith because…

Let’s say Keith doesn’t get bad reviews. _Especially_ in bed. Locker room talk in the swim team is a never-ending spiel of _Keith-this_ and _Keith-that and_ Lance has to hear that in complete jealousy because why not him? But then he thinks he knows the answer.

For a guy who is kind of okay in making-out but with zero experience in sex, Lance thinks that they will only ever remain friends.

Sure, maybe, just maybe there were times Lance wore shorts that were a little too short to try and get Keith’s attention, or tried to entice him with staying over, but Keith was nothing if not respectful. He wouldn’t so much as lance at his shorts or—and this is the kicker—would accept Lance’s invitation to share the bed but then proceed to sleep as still as a fucking _corpse_ in a coffin. He would not move an inch from his spot, and it drove Lance nuts because what’s it gonna take?

So, after a bunch of overthinking, stressing during finals, and finishing said finals of his first year, Lance assumes they are going nowhere. He no doubt would not stop crushing on Keith, but he has no hope.

Until that party.

Shiro and Matt, who live in a sorority house instead of the dorms along with a few other soccer players, decided to throw a party for the end of the year. It was night when Lance and Hunk arrived, dressed cutely and ready to drink the night away. The lawn, despite the party starting only an hour earlier—was already filled with a couple of drunk strays, and the house that was lit up in a variety of bright lights and string lights shone against the dark night sky.

The music boomed across the front yard and thrummed in Lance’s veins and he wanted to throw himself into the thick crowd of the dancing area. The entire house was flooded with students, all shouting and laughing, dancing and making out, and Lance loved every second of it.

They met up with the group, where Shiro, Matt, Keith, and Allura were sitting on couches and sipping drinks from solo cups, laughing and talking. Things spiraled when Keith got his hands on more drinks and well, that’s when Lance realized maybe he shouldn’t assume too much.

Because an hour and a half into the party, Keith had three drinks and was slightly tipsy, leaning into Lance’s space casually, an arm draped over his shoulders. Lance could smell his spicy cologne and in the heat of the moment, Lance leaned back into Keith.

Hunk had gone off with Shay to dance. Allura was off somewhere and Shiro and Matt left them to talk to the soccer players, which left Keith and Lance alone on the couch.

Keith was looking at him with a gentle smile. “Do you want to dance?”

Lance’s eyes grew wide. “You _dance_? You, Keith ‘ _I’d rather eat my own hand than dance_ ’ Kogane?”

“Hm, you’re right. Rolo and Nyma are practically doing it on the dance floor.”

Lance turned to the dancing bodies and spotted the couple somewhere in the middle, a large gap between them and some other people who looked uncomfortable as the two sucked faces and grinded. He winced. “Yeah, that doesn’t look good at all.”

Keith paused and then he’s sucking in a breath. He looked so handsome with his hair tied up, signature jacket slung over his shoulders, and that pink tongue that darted out to lick his lips

“Did I tell you how hot you look in those jeans?”

The words were practically spilling from Keith’s mouth. But that’s how it started.

Lance flushed red. “Oh, th—thanks.” He didn’t have words. Fighting with Keith was easy, flirting with him—was this flirting? — was so fucking difficult because his mouth was dry.

There’s something there in Keith’s dark gaze, shimmering brightly as he bit his lip and Lance felt heat spreading across his body, wanting and needing to be touched. He decided then and there to shoot his last shot. He leaned forward, nearly kissing Keith’s ear, and he felt the shudder that ran through Keith as he exhaled hotly. His hand found purchase on Keith’s muscular thigh, gripping tightly, nearly to the apex of his legs, and he whispered, “I’d look hotter without them.”

Keith sucked in a breath. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” Lance’s hand ran up higher and Keith’s thighs spread automatically. The loud music and the shouting and screaming was tuned out; he could only focus on Keith’s hard breathing and the soft noise he had made when Lance slowly pressed his lips below his ear, kissing it softly. “If you don’t believe me, you can see for yourself.” His voice was low and sultry.

Keith knocked back another cup of beer, as if he needed the strength. He took Lance’s palms in his, and when Lance’s breath hitched, he smirked, eyelashes fluttering. He pressed a kiss to Lance’s palm. So, when he said, “let’s go upstairs,” Lance didn’t hesitate.

Keith paved the way through the throngs of people and all Lance could think was ‘it’s happening, it’s actually happening!’ the music thrummed through him viciously with every step he took. He focused on Keith’s broad shoulders and the way his hair bobbed when they ran out the house, giggling, pressed into each other, hands roaming down backs and palms clasped. Their dorms are a minute walk away, so they run for it, Lance running first and screaming, “race you!” And Keith actually ran after him, laughing loudly. They reached the building, and since Lance’s bedroom was closest, they went there.

Keith closed the door behind him, and Lance was so pumped with the drinks and the run that he threw himself on Keith and they stumbled backwards as their lips smashed into each other. Lance’s body felt charged as Keith’s hands clasped his waist and drew him in. Keith’s almost on his toes as they kiss, both hard yet gentle, passionate as his tongue skimmed the roof of Lance’s mouth. Lance’s hand curled into the hair at the nape of his neck, humming into Keith’s mouth as hands found their way under his shirt.

When Keith groaned, Lance felt it shudder into his very core at the breathlessness of it, at the ease Keith gripped his thighs and hauled him up, and Lance nearly lost it because he’s on fucking _fire_ , white hot and burning as their hips aligned and grinded against each other.

They parted shortly, breathing hotly into each other as their lips brushed, and in the dim light of the moon from the open window, Lance spotted the flecks of indigo in Keith’s eyes, each shining like stars.

“So beautiful,” he murmured, and Keith kissed his cheek, trailing down to his jaw and Lance leaned back, baring his neck to Keith, letting him bite down the soft skin of his neck and littering them with kisses and bruises. Each suck of his lips had Lance nearly throbbing with need, tightening his hold on Keith, and the next thing he knew, he’s being tossed onto the bed, yelping as he bounced. Keith slipped off his jacket and leaps on top of Lance, caging him in his arms and straddling him between his legs.

“I think you’ve got it the other way ‘round,” Keith whispered, trailing a hand up to his cheek, cradling it, and Lance’s breath catches at the tenderness. “I like you.”

Lance grinned wide, hooking his arms around Keith’s neck to draw him into a kiss. “I like you, too.”

Keith pulled back to yank off his shirt and Lance was caught breathless one more time because _holy fucking hell_ , he’s built with muscled arm and a thick, toned stomach that felt rock hard when he ran his fingers up his chest. Lance grasped his firm pecs, mouth dropped open in awe.

Keith laughed, batting his hands away tug at Lance’s shirt. “Let’s get this off.” They pulled off Lance’s shirt and Keith immediately latched onto a nipple, kissing and scraping his teeth around it. Lance shuddered, fingers digging into Keith’s hair as he kept as still as possible, panting as Keith began kissing down his chest, onto his stomach, lower where his jeans rested on his hips. With a flick, the button was undone, and his pants were tossed to the ground.

“Such a perfect body,” Keith said, voice octaves lower and it fucking hit him like a train, the tent in his boxers hard and full. “Your waist is so fucking tiny I can cover it with my hands.” Lance’s heart leaped into his throat when fingers brushed along the waistband of his boxers.

“Wait!” Lance yelped as Keith’s fingers dipped inside. Keith looked up in concern and Lance gulped. “This—uh—this is—”

“Do you not want to have sex?”

“No! No, it isn’t that!” Lance bit his lip and when Keith removed his hand, he could breathe a little easier. “It’s just—” his cheeks burned red as he looked away.

A pressure on his chin made him turn back to lock gazes with indigo eyes. Keith frowned. “What’s wrong? Too fast?”

Lance caught his fingers, suddenly ashamed that he had no experience whatsoever. Would Keith even like if he didn’t know what to do? Should he fake it through?

“Hey,” Keith murmured gently, a thumb brushing his cheek. “Talk to me.”

“I’ve never done this before,” Lance blurted out.

“Slept with a guy?”

“Slept with… _anyone_.”

Keith huffed out a breath, looking eager. “You had me worried there for a second.”

Lance slapped his arm, whining. “That wasn’t easy for me to admit, you know! Twenty and never had sex? Practically unheard of. And… it means a lot to me. I wouldn’t have sex with someone I don’t truly care about.”

Keith chuckled, tracing a finger down Lance’s neck, feeling as his Adam’s apple bobbed under the skin. “It’s not unheard of, Lance. It’s alright, and I’m glad it’s your first time with me. I’ll make it special.”

A chorus of angels sang, the skies opened up, Lance’s heart pounded so hard he was sure Keith could feel it in the short space between their bodies. “So, it’s okay?” He whispered.

“It’s more than okay,” Keith sealed with a soft kiss and Lance melted into his embrace. “I’ll take care of you, just trust me.”

“I trust you,” Lance said against swollen lips. And he did. When Keith pulled down his boxers, Lance only shivered as kisses burned into the skin of his hips. Keith marked up Lance’s thighs, kissing and licking and sucking until Lance was gasping, and then Keith pressed his lips to the tip of Lance’s cock and Lance _keened_.

“Keith…” Lance moaned as fingers gripped his thighs hard enough to make him shudder. When he looked down, dark eyes glinting dangerously; Keith licked his lips and dipped his head, swallowing his cock in one fell swoop.

Lance’s back arched and he choked on a gasp, tightening his grip on Keith’s locks. This was the first time anyone took him into their mouth, and it was hot and perfect and _tight_ as Keith’s tongue laved the underside of his cock, sucking him like he was born to do it. Keith had to hold his hips down as he sucked hard once more, and Lance nearly came if it weren’t for Keith pulling off quickly, saliva and precum on his chin. It shouldn’t be hot, but by god, _it fucking is._ Lance watched through lidded eyes as Keith hummed.

“You look so wrecked, Lance, and I barely did anything.” Keith said, a grin curling his lips. Lance only groaned.

“More,” Lance whispered, going to touch himself, but Keith didn’t allow that. “C’mon, Keith, I want _more_.”

“I’ll give you more,” Keith promised as he spread Lance’s legs wider and lifted them to his shoulders. Lance squeaked, feeling barer as Keith eyed him like he was a meal, and then Keith was diving in, not at his cock, but at his rim.

A gasp fell from his lips as Keith dragged his tongue along the small pucker, wet and warm and _so fucking good_ that Lance’s legs clenched around his head. His hips bucked upwards as Keith hummed, pressing harsh kisses and bites along his hole that Lance keened, heat flashing through him in waves.

Keith slammed Lance’s legs down, growling, “stop moving.” Lance whimpered as Keith pushed his tongue into his hole and then began eating him out like a starving man, like Lance was all he wanted to taste.

“Keith, oh god, _Keith_ ,” he whined, as Keith’s lips wrapped around his hole and sucked and he saw stars explode behind his eyelids. Fingers dug into his legs to keep him still but Lance was fucking squirming, pushing into the strong, talented tongue, grinding on Keith’s face and Keith didn’t complain, just made a delighted sound as his tongue curled into him, licked him, spread him open like a goddamn feast, and Lance was so turned on he couldn’t even think. He panted out Keith’s name the faster Keith licked, the flat of his tongue spearing him open.

Lance’s toes curled into the sheets and he shuddered. Keith buried his face deeper between his thighs, groaning as Lance tugged his hair. The sloppy sound of Keith’s tongue _slurping into him_ echoes in the room with Lance’s moans, and by god, Lance realized that everything his teammates told him about Keith was so underrated because Lance had never felt so full of pleasure in his _life_.

Lance tossed his head back as he could focus only on Keith’s mouth, the pleasure singing his nerves and turning his legs to jelly. His lips were permanently parted as he moaned loud and uninhibited, and when Keith’s pinkie finger slipped into his hole alongside his tongue and curled, it hit a spot in him that had him whiting out with a scream of Keith’s name, arching off the sheets and then he’s splattering on his stomach, warm and wet as Keith pulled away to wipe his chin.

The silence of the room wasn’t noticed because Lance’s heart could be heard in every cell of his body.

“I’d fuck you every single day if you look like that,” Keith mumbled, slowly letting down Lance’s legs, but they collapsed as the lanky boy shuddered, panting hard. “Gorgeous, so pretty under me, screaming my name.” His hands got a possessive grip of Lance’s ass as he spread them. Lance’s spine tingled as every bit of his skin touched was set ablaze. “And _only_ my name.”

A garbled sound left Lance’s lips as Keith’s low voice beat through him.

The rest was lost to him, like he was in a haze of pleasure as Keith fingered him open gently, his sensitive hole tripling the shots to his nerves and Lance _knew_ he was babbling incoherently, shouting Keith’s name as Keith entered into him and let him adjust to his size.

And it was _big_. Keith was huge and filled him to the brim, until it was _too much_ and Lance was squirming away on weak limbs, the pleasure too much but he wanted _more,_ needed _more_ , so he didn’t resist when Keith grabbed his hips and pulled him down on his cock.

The meaning of _being speared_ was underrated.

Because this was like he was _split_ _open_. Filled and emptied and filled once more, like drinking a cup of water when you’re parched. Keith filled him up and more, gave him so much more, just like he promised.

Lance couldn’t stop moaning. Keith began thrusting into him, and Lance could only hold on. His nails clawed lines down Keith’s back and made Keith pound into him _harder_. His ankles locked around Keith’s waist and the headboard slammed against the wall repeatedly as Keith sunk into him.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Lance cried, “Keith! God, _Keith_ , so— _so full!_ You fill me so good!”

“Yeah, baby?” Keith grunted against his neck. He pulled up to watch himself fuck into Lance’s hole, in a deep, slow stroke that make Lance’s mouth gape, eyes rolling back. “Look so good for me, so pretty stretched around me. You’re _swallowing_ me so well, baby.”

Lance sobbed as Keith thrusted faster, each like a hit into him, and when he slightly changed positions, he hit that spot, that only part that made Lance putty.

Keith’s hands enveloped his thin waist almost completely, and as the next thrust slammed into him, Keith swallowed down Lance’s moans with a kiss. Lance keened.

“You’re _made_ for my cock,” Keith murmured, the snap of his hips in this blindingly harsh rhythm.

“Hah! Kei— _uhh_ —yes, _yes_ , there— _there_ , Keith, fuck!” Lance moaned, high-pitched and shameless.

Keith drove into Lance without mercy and Lance began _screaming_ , hole clenched so hard that Keith’s cock was _dragging_ out of him, the squelch of lube sounding sloppy and filthy, and the swell of Lance’s ass was sore from how hard Keith was slamming into him, but when Keith gripped his cheeks, he could only moan louder and grind down to meet those thrusts.

“So pretty.” Keith was looking at him with wide eyes. Lance looked fucked out with tears seeping from the corners of his eyes as Lance begged, _cried,_ to cum. “Keep begging, baby, you look so _beautiful_ begging.”

“Please, _please,_ Keith _, I need it,_ ” Lance hiccupped, arms flopping to the sides tiredly. His body was limp as Keith shoved into him, the coil in his stomach building so fast he’s aching. “Cum in me, in me, _please_ , god, Keith— _Keith!”_

“Anything you want, baby,” Keith growled low and hot. “I’ll give you everything.”

Lance blacked out. He had been fucked so deep and good and _fuck_ , he was only a virgin. He didn’t expect mind-blowing, breath-taking sex but he got it and his body jerked and turned to liquid as Keith spilled into him, collapsing onto him with a rasp of his name that he wasn’t awake to hear.

When he did come to, he felt hot and his chest heaved as he breathed deeply, feeling soft fingers brush his sweaty hair away from his forehead and even softer kisses pressed into his shoulders, barely there but so soothing that Lance could’ve been lulled to sleep.

“Good morning,” Keith teased, nose nudging into his forehead. Lance sleepily blinked, his smile lazy at the gorgeous man beside him.

“It’s morning?” Lance breathed.

Keith chuckled and pressed a kiss to his lips. “No, babe, you kind of fainted.”

“Oh,” Lance muttered, “you fucked me that hard?” Keith smiled sheepishly. “Are we—” Lance paused, trying to recollect everything but it made his head hurt a bit. “Never mind, can we go to sleep? ‘M so tired.”

Keith brought him into his arms and Lance hummed, pleased as he rested his head on Keith’s chest. It took a moment to realize he was clean and without any cum on him. His heart warmed at the thought of Keith taking care of him.

“Thanks, Keith,” Lance murmured. He ran a hand up Keith’s side and was caught by Keith’s palm that gently cradled it, a kiss placed on it. Keith liked him. He liked Keith.

That was the best night of his life.

He fell asleep warm and cozy, Keith’s heartbeat lulling him to sleep.

The next morning, Keith left him without even a goodbye.

Lance shut his laptop, mood for working gone completely. His eyes stung but he harshly blinked the tears away.

How could he be so stupid? How could he ever think someone like Keith would ever love someone like him? He was stupid, and naïve, and an idiot. Every word Keith shared with him was a word he probably shared with every single person he slept with.

He isn’t beautiful, or pretty, or perfect. He never was and never will be. He is nothing but a one-night stand to Keith. Just like all those other guys Keith fucked.

It made Lance feel dirty and used.

It made Lance _angry_.

And it broke Lance’s heart.


End file.
